


Trust

by LanxBorealis



Series: What We Can't See, What We Can't Hear, What We Can't Say [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dark!Dipper, Short, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3684933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanxBorealis/pseuds/LanxBorealis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All it took was four words. "You can trust me..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

He ran.

He couldn't help it. He couldn't stay in that house anymore. That house filled with lies, half-truths and betrayals.

Everything was torn apart; broken at the seams. In a single, heart-wrenching moment, everything changed. 

A day will come in the future where everything you care about will change... 

No, he couldn't think about that. 

He kept running.

Bushes and branches swept by him as he moved, slicing open his pale skin, allowing rivets of blood to stream down his uncovered arms and legs. Drops of blood splashed onto the ground, staining the brown and green a dark red color.

Despite the stinging pain, he kept running. Away from the betrayal of his grunkle. The betrayal of his sister. The coldness of the author he had been searching for for weeks now. 

Running from the glances of guilt that would scorch him just as he turned away, the utter quietness that would plague a room just as he took a step inside, the feeling of suffocating isolation.

He couldn't take it any longer. The desperation to get out, to run away and stay away, if only for a little while. 

He started to slow down, his breathless gasps coming out harsh and cold. Bending over slightly, he grasped his chest, only now feeling the cold burning of his lungs and the rapid pounding of his heart. 

Then the pain came. 

Hissing, he sunk to his knees, gripping his torn arms. His legs felt like lead bars, heavy and useless. Cramps were forming deep in his sides as well, muscles tired from the excretion and exhaustion. 

Closing his tired eyes, he allowed his body to rest. He felt as if he would never be able to move again. With a light groan, he laid down onto his back, staring up at the treetops high above. Now that the high form his mental anguish was gone, he felt numb. Rubbing his face lightly, he tried to erase the dry tear-tracks from his skin, ignoring the fact that he was smearing sweat and blood onto his face. 

As his reality and sense of reason came back, he couldn't help but realize how deep in the woods he was. He couldn't even see the sky anymore; only weak sunlight filtered through the thick canopy.

Glancing around from where he was laying, he noted that the forest around him looked all the same.

He couldn't remember what direction he had come from. He would've laughed if it wasn't so terrifying. Here he was, lost in the same woods he explored day in and day out, with no way out and no sky to guide him. 

Flopping his head back down into the coarse grass, he ran a weak hand over his forehead. His hat fell off in the movement. He didn't bother putting it back on.

Laying there, he couldn't help but notice how utterly peaceful the forest was. The only sounds that pierced the cooling air was the light twitter of bird songs. Normally, he would've been on high alert, completely suspicious on how the forest was being too normal for Gravity Falls, especially considering how paranoid he usually was. 

However, his mind didn't wonder about the strange normalcy that seemed to take place around him. No, his tired mind wandered back into the past, somewhere he didn't want to go, but couldn't help. Back to that horrible moment, when everything changed. 

“Look into my eyes, Mabel! You really think I'm a bad guy?”

Yes, yes he was a bad guy. He had lied to them This entire time. Lied, again and again and again. He should have seen this coming. Stan had lied about knowing about the supernatural things that went on here, but why did it surprise him again? He should have seen this coming. 

“Kid, you don't understand what you're getting into. This work...it's not for children. Not for adults, either. Not for anyone.”

He had been wanting to know all summer. Had dedicated countless sleepless nights working on the puzzle that was the journal. He had pined to know who wrote the book that had helped and intrigued him but the reality was so much more cold than his dreams, a realization that he had made recently. The author saw him as nothing more than a child getting into something way over his head. Just because he was twelve didn't mean he didn't understand the risks, the danger. He had almost gotten killed too many times to even count. Had fought and beaten gnomes, ghosts, zombies, mechanical monsters. Heck, even dinosaurs! He knew the risks. He knew the danger. To disregard his intelligence like that, his experience...he didn't know what to say. 

“Grunkle Stan...I trust you.”

Those four words. Four words was all it took to tear everything apart. He could clearly see the look on Mable's face, the hurt. The uncertainty. The awkwardness. 

Everything changed. That stupid dorito chip had been right. 

As he stared into the leaves of the trees, he felt, almost against his will, his eyes get heavy. It seems his recent insomnia had caught up to him. He couldn't help but let his eyes close.

I'll rest them. He decided. Just a short rest. Then I'll go back...  
He made his way through the trees, unsure where he was. It was dark now. The little sky he could see through the thick leaves was pitch black.

He knew he was getting himself even more loss. It kept getting darker and darker somehow. The forest around him seemed to change. Poisonous looking, glowing fungus crept up along tree trunks, sapping the pines of their strength. Despite the darkness, despite the creepiness, despite the faint but audible noises that teased him, he kept walking. 

Walking.

Not running.

In the strangest of ways, he felt safe. Like no one could touch him. Like no one could harm him. He was safe among the pines. 

Brushing some bushes out of the way, he came across a large clearing. Stepping out, he turned to stare at the sky.

It was pitch black. No stars. No moon. Only darkness. 

His heart skipped a beat. Where the heck was he? 

Turning his head, he noticed a small pond nestled in the center of the clearing. Making his way to it slowly, he noticed that the strange pond was in the shape of a perfect circle. 

The water was black, reflecting the sky perfectly. Sitting down next to the small water source, he peered into the liquid, unable to see his own reflection. 

He knew he should be worried and wondering where he was, but he couldn't seem to hang onto any solid thoughts. Every thought drifted away, forgotten as quickly as it came.

For a while, he sat next to the pond, staring at the darkness that reflected off its surface. He was completely mesmerized, unable to tear his eyes away. He didn't know if that was a symptom of being sleep-deprived or not. He wasn't feeling tired anymore. 

Staring into the pool with such mindless intensity, he quickly noticed the golden sparks flashing in the center, cranking his head upwards, he watched as a small, familiar, triangular being pop into existance.

“Hiya, Pine tree! Fancy seeing you here!” Bill sang in his annoying, pitched voice of his. 

The dorito was the same as he remembered him to be. Single eyed, bright gold, tall top hat, neatly tied bow tie, and his trademark irritating voice.

“...What are you doing here. Bill?” He replied, jumping up to his feet. 

“Just passing through, Pine tree. Do I need a reason to see one of my favorite humans?”  
Dipper raised an eyebrow at the statement. Despite his exhaustion, he kept himself at the ready. Bill had to have a reason to come here...where ever here was, that is. Tightening his fists at his side, he refused to reply. 

“Ah, I'm just joking with ya, kid! Don't have to take everything so seriously.” Bill continued. 

Dipper still refused to respond.

Rolling his one eye, Bill floated lower, almost eye-level with the kid. Almost.

“So, what's bothering ya, Pine tree?”

Dipper stared at Bill, distrust radiating off him. “And why do you care?” he snapped.

Bill shrugged. “Oh, I don't, really. In fact, I already know what's wrong. I am all-seeing, after all!” 

Dipper huffed. “Then why are you here?”

Bill rolled his eye. “I already answered that. Haven't you been listening? You really need to start listening to what all powerful demons are saying.”

“Well, sorry for being so distrustful.” Dipper muttered lowly. “Last time I saw you, you stole my body, destroyed the laptop, almost destroyed the journal, and ruined my sister's play.” At the mention of his sister, Dipper felt his shoulders droop as depression sank into him. His sister...the other half of the mystery twins...

“Oh, you're still on that? Hehe, a deal's a deal, kid!” Bill replied snappily. 

“But you didn’t even fulfill your end of the deal!” Dipper protested.

“Ah, but I did. How else did you figure out who the laptop belonged to?”

“You promised the password!”

“No, I ‘promised’ a hint. And you got a pretty good one.” Bill finished. 

Dipper scowled at the golden triangle, unable to argue back. He turned away slightly, still keeping an eye on the demon however. “Just go away, Bill. I don't feel like dealing with you.”

Bill stared at Dipper. If he had a mouth, he would've been giving a grin even the Cheshire Cat would be jealous of. 

“Ah, don't be like that Pine tree~” Bill practically sang. “Why don't you tell your good 'ol friend Bill what's bothering you? You humans always like talking about your problems, after all!”

Dipper scowled at the triangle, but said nothing.

“Where are we?” He finally asked, letting his eyes flicker up to the blank sky once again. 

Bill laughed. “You don't know? I thought you were smarter than that, Pine tree! We're in the mindscape, of course! Your mindscape, to be exact!” 

Dipper let his eyes settle on the triangle once again. In all honesty, the answer didn't surprise him. Simply looking around gave him an indicator of how he's been feeling lately, not that he needed one, of course. 

“I gotta say, you've really let this place go. I mean, really. Was much better before.” Bill said, twirling a glowing yellow cane.

“You've been to my mindscape before?”

Bill rolled his eye once again. “Geeze, kid. You're really slow today. Maybe it's because of all this bottled up depression and loneliness.”

Dipper scowled at Bill. “I'm not depressed. Or lonely!” He snapped back.

“Suuure, Pine tree. Keep telling yourself that.”

Dipper's shoulders sagged and he sat back down onto the ground, no longer having the energy to stand. The forest around him seemed to get even darker and the colors faded away. Dipper stared back into the pond. 

Bill moved so he was floating over the pond. 

Dipper put his head in his hands. He didn't know what to do anymore, what to think. Everything had been torn away from him.

Everything had changed.

Dipper couldn't help but let out a small laugh. A condescending, surprisingly cold laugh for such a young kid. 

Bill's metaphorical grin grew wider. 

“It's- it's hilarious.” Dipper finally muttered. You were warning me this entire time, weren't you? You knew this would happen, but I ignored you.”

“It's called irony, Pine tree. Life's full of it!” 

Dipper turned his face upwards to Bill, eyes wet and lost.

Weak. 

“...What...What do I do now?” He finally ground out. “What can I do now?” He muttered again, quieter. 

Dipper's thoughts raced back to the journal, remembering the page.

Trust no one. 

Ha. Turned out to be true, hadn't it? He had been given so many warnings, both written and spoken. How had he not seen it? How could have he been blind for so long?

Trust no one.

Who hadn't lied to him? Who hadn't betrayed him in some fundamental way? Who could he depend on now besides himself?

No one.

Just as it should have been all along. 

“I've been so stupid.” Dipper said clearly, straightening his back. Staring down into the pond, Dipper watched recent memories play out. 

Mable letting him down, time and time again.

Every lie Stan had ever told him.

The author. 

“Human's aren't trustworthy, Pine tree.” Bill noted. 

“Oh, and you are?” Dipper shot back. 

Bill tutted. “At least I keep my word.”

Dipper fell silent again. 

Despite their past grievances, Bill had always kept his word. The strange, triangular demon had never out-right lied to him, straight faced. He didn't lie about who he was and what he was towards him either. There was no betrayal and there wouldn't ever be a betrayal by the strange demon because Dipper knew exactly who the demon was. Knew how he was like. 

Finally, the child spoke. His words were harsh, filled with maturity beyond his years as well as all the hurt and desperation that went along. “Ironic, isn't it? Out of everyone I know...” Dipper trailed off.

“...I haven't ever lied to ya, Pine tree. Demon's are more classy than that.” Bill added in, lightly pulling on his bow tie. 

Dipper shook his head, slight laughter filled him again at the situation along with bitter tears at the shards let behind.

How could have everything come to this? This insanity?

Dipper slowly stood up again. Keeping his eyes on Bill, he slowly waded into the black pond, the waters reflecting the night sky again. The dark waters sloshed around his legs and shoes. The liquid washed away the thick blood stains that he had forgotten were there. The mud squished underneath his sneakers. 

Bill watched the child stand before him, his eyes broken mirrors, reminding him of another man, in a different time and place, nearly thirty years before who had the same eyes, the same slump of shoulders, the same dreary and gray mindscape filled with nothing but inner monsters, paranoia, and sorrow. And just like all those years ago, Bill gently reached out a arm, resting his black hand gently on top of the child's scalp, feeling soft hair glide underneath his hand.

And just like all those years ago, he uttered four simple words. Four simple words that would bring the child to him, just as it did to the man before. 

“You can trust me.”


End file.
